3 Gabriel
3
Gabriel
Eight Years Old
She kept tapping.
Tap , tap , tap , her fingernails went against the wooden panels as she stared at me.
Tap, tap, tap, stare.
It was freaking annoying.
“Will you knock it off already?” I barked at the stupid girl who wouldn’t stop gawking at me like a freak. She sat there with her big, brown bug eyes staring at me, as if she had no clue that I couldn’t stand her. The only reason she was anywhere near me was because a year ago, the stupid new neighbors told my mom that Kierra was having trouble making friends. Mom, of course, thought I’d be the perfect person for that girl to be friends with, so she forced me to be friendly to Kierra.
I hated how parents always did what they wanted without caring what us kids wanted. The last thing I wanted to do was hang out with the weird kid with some kind of wire helmet on her head that connected to her braces.
A few kids in our class called her Brace Face. I didn’t call her that. I figured that was too mean. But I really wished she’d stop staring at me like she was in love with me. A part of me wanted to tell her that I was forced to hang out with her after school, but Dad told me not to be a dick about it.
I didn’t even know what being a dick meant. Mom yelled at him and smacked the back of his head for saying that. Then she told me to never say it, and that my dad was a bad influence. I didn’t think he was a bad influence, though. I thought he was the coolest guy ever. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. I wanted to take over his architect business someday, too, if I could, and I wanted to use the same kind of words he used all the time. So I’d spent the next day at school calling everyone a dick every chance I got.
“I mean it,” I huffed at Kierra. “Stop it!”
“Stop what?” she hummed, curling her hair with her finger as she lay on her stomach in my tree house, kicking her feet back and forth in the air.
“ That ,” I urged, gesturing toward her. “Stop staring at me like you’re in love with me or something.”
“ I’m not in love with you! ” she spat out, seeming disturbed by the idea. She didn’t have to sound that bothered by it.
“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” I muttered.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position. “I’m not a dick!”
“You sure do act like one.”
“No, I don’t!” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms as she huffed. “What’s a dick?”
“ You ,” I said, only ’cuz I didn’t exactly know how to explain it to her ’cuz I didn’t exactly know what it was, either. All I knew was I didn’t want to be stuck in my tree house with her for the next forever hours and always minutes.
“Well, you’re a bigger dick!”
I leaped to my feet and marched over to her. “No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are! You’re the dickest dick that’s ever dicked!”
“You don’t even know what that means!”
“I don’t care. I just know it’s true. That’s why you dress like a toad.”
I gasped. “I don’t dress like a toad!”
She nodded her head as she stood, standing a few inches away from me. “Uh-huh. You dress like the ugliest toad out there. If you had any common sense, you’d let me dress you, because I’m the best fashion person ever, but you must just like looking ugly!”
“Well at least I don’t walk like a penguin!”
“I don’t walk like a penguin!”
“Yes, you do! The other day I saw you get out of your pool and you waddled like a freaking penguin!”
“Well, jokes on you because I love penguins!”
“Good, Penguin!”
“Don’t call me ‘Penguin’! Just because I like them doesn’t mean you can call me that.”
“I can call you whatever I want! Now get out of my tree house, Penguin !” I ordered.
“I’ll leave when I want to, Toad!”
“Shut up, why don’t you? I didn’t even want you to come into my tree house.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No,” I hissed, “I didn’t.”
She stuck out her neck and waved a finger in my face. “Then why did you invite me over in the first place?”
“Because my parents made me, you bonehead! Your mom told my mom that you were a loser and had no friends, so my mom forced me to hang out with you!”
She gasped. “I’m not a loser!”
“You are. That’s why you have no friends!”
“I don’t want friends,” she said. “I like being alone. People are annoying, like you!”
“Yeah, well, how about you go back to being alone!”
“I will!”
“Good!”
“Great!”
“Greater great!”
“Greater great, great!”
“Whatever, loser. Just go,” I said, rolling my eyes. I was sick of her being in my space, breathing in my tree-house air. I hated that a girl like her was able to breathe the same air as me. I hated everything about Kierra Hughes, and I wanted her out of my life as soon as possible. “That’s why you’re weird with your brace face,” I shouted to drive my point home that I wanted nothing to do with her.
I saw her eyes flash with tears, and I felt bad right away.
I was no better than the other kids.
I was such a dick.
Before I could apologize, Kierra puffed out her chest, made a fist, and shoved it straight into my gut, making me fall to the floor.
“Ouch!” I blurted out, rubbing the elbow that had slammed into the wooden floor. “That hurt.”
“That’s what you get, you stupid boy! I never want to talk to you again.”
Before I could reply, I heard Mom shouting from outside of the tree house. “Gabriel! Gabriel, get down here, will you? Kierra, you come down, too.”
My stomach knotted up, knowing she was probably going to yell at us both for fighting. I pushed myself up. “See what you did? You got us in trouble.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Kierra stated as she climbed down the tree-house ladder. I followed her, ready to defend myself.
“It was her fault, Mom! She—” After I hit the last step of the ladder, I turned around to face my mom and stopped talking when I saw her eyes. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she shook her head back and forth. “What’s wrong?” I asked. I’d never seen Mom cry, except for when she laughed so hard that tears fell down her cheeks. But this wasn’t that kind of crying. This was the kind of crying that scared me.
She combed her hair behind her ears and hurried over to me. “We have to get to the hospital, Gabriel, okay? We have to go now. Kierra, I tried to call your parents, but they didn’t answer, so you must come with us.”
“Why are we going to the hospital?” I asked, confused.
“It’s…” Mom’s voice cracked. She sniffled and started crying more. “It’s your father, Gabriel. There was an accident. We have to go. Now. ”
***
Kierra
Gabriel and I sat in the hospital waiting room with his mom. We hadn’t said anything to each other, and as we waited, his mom paced back and forth. She kept glancing at the clock on the wall, then she’d move to the receptionist desk, ask for an update on Gabriel’s dad, and then argue that she wasn’t getting enough answers.
Then she’d pace again.
A few others waited in the same area as us. I’d never been in a hospital waiting room. I felt a little sick and scared.
I might not have liked Gabriel, but I liked his dad a lot. Mr. Sinclair was always sneaking me money whenever I’d come over to visit, since he couldn’t give me candy because of my braces. “Save it up for some Sour Patch Kids and Skittles when you get your braces off. Then come share with me. Those are my two favorite candies,” he told me.
I already had fifty bucks for candy thanks to him.
And whenever I’d get off the school bus, he’d ask me how my day was going and ask me about my designing and how softball was going for me. Those were two of my favorite things, fashion and softball. Gabriel played baseball, too, but I was actually good at it, unlike him.
Mr. Sinclair always made sure that I knew I was good, too. He even showed up to my games with my parents whenever he had free time.
I wanted him to be okay.
I needed him to be okay. If not for me, then for the toad sitting next to me.
Gabriel looked sad. Sadder than I’d ever seen anyone look. His head was lowered as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap. His legs kept bouncing up and down, and he hadn’t said a word since we got to the hospital. I didn’t say anything, either. I didn’t know what to say.
I wondered what Mom would say if she were there. She was really good at making people feel better when they were sad, and even though I hated Gabriel, I didn’t want him to be sad.
When the doctor finally came out to speak to Mrs. Sinclair, Gabriel and I looked up. We couldn’t hear them from where we were, but I knew it was nothing good. The doctor’s eyes looked sad and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” I heard him say before Mrs. Sinclair dropped to her knees and broke into a howling cry. Gabriel darted over to her side and wrapped his arms around her. He held on to his mother tightly as she fell apart. He began to cry, too, and fell apart with her, so I did the only thing I could think to do.
I went to hold him because he had no one to hold him through the sad part. Everyone should have somebody to hold them during the sad parts.
As I listened to him cry, I started to cry, too.
***
It was a heart attack.
Mr. Sinclair’s heart just gave out without warning. The doctors all tried their best to bring him back, but it didn’t work. Mom said it was one of the saddest things that ever happened. Daddy didn’t say much. He and Mr. Sinclair were good friends, and when Daddy found out about his death, he went into his study and didn’t come out for hours.
A week later was the funeral for Mr. Sinclair. I sat between Mom and Daddy in the church pew, two rows behind Gabriel and his mom. The two of them sat in the front row. Mom said the front row was for the people closest to the person who passed away, which meant to me that it was the hardest row to sit in. I hoped I’d never have to sit in the front row… I hoped Gabriel would never have to do it again, either.
I couldn’t stop staring in the Sinclairs’ direction as I sat in the pew. Gabriel hadn’t been to school over the past week. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t ever wanna go back to school if I’d lost my dad. I wouldn’t want to do anything.
“You okay, sport?” Daddy asked as he leaned in to whisper to me.
I nodded.
He took my hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Mom took my other hand and did the same thing.
I could only see the back of Gabriel’s head with his dark hair. He wore an all-black suit, like everyone else, and didn’t raise his head to acknowledge all the adults who kept walking up to try to engage with him. At one point, his uncle tried to get him to go up to the open casket to say goodbye, but he refused to do it.
I was too scared to go up there, too.
The pastor did a speech, and some people shared stories about Mr. Sinclair. There was music, and after the service, they moved the casket to a car. Gabriel and his mother had to walk behind the casket, and I thought that was kind of evil to make them do. I thought at any second they both would’ve fallen down from being so heartbroken.
At one point, Gabriel looked over to me, and his eyes were so red and flooded with tears that I started to weep, too. I didn’t know why, but over the past week, whenever I saw Gabriel cry, I’d start crying. It was like his tears sparked something in me that made my chest hurt so much that I was forced to cry, too. Before that, I didn’t know my tears could match another’s.
At the end of the burial, everyone tossed a rose on top of the casket, and they lowered it into the ground.
“ No, no, no ,” Mrs. Sinclair wailed as that happened. She dropped to her knees and reached out for her husband, and it broke my heart that Mr. Sinclair wasn’t there to reach back out toward her.
I didn’t understand death. How could it be so cruel?
Gabriel stepped up and took her hand, though.
“It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay,” he told her, even though I wasn’t sure he believed that himself. How could he believe that it was okay? He no longer had a dad. But still, he tried his best to make sure his mom was all right.
Maybe that was when I started to hate him a little less.
Maybe that was when I started to wonder who was making sure he was all right if he was in charge of making sure his mom was all right.
I didn’t mean anything against Mrs. Sinclair when I thought that, but it seemed she was hardly able to keep herself together, let alone her son who was being forced to grow up a lot faster than he should’ve been. I had a feeling Mrs. Sinclair would never be the same after that. Maybe that’s what death did to the people who were still stuck being alive—changed them forever. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
***
Gabriel
“Gabriel Sinclair! Get back in here. And you will stop slamming these doors, young man. Do you understand me?” Mom yelled as she followed me out to the backyard. I didn’t say another word to her. I was sick of it all. I was sick of her telling me to do my homework. I was sick of her trying to do the stuff with me that Dad always did. I was sick of her asking if I wanted to play catch with her. I was sick of it all! I was mostly sick of Dad being dead, though.
How could he do that?
How could he die?
I hated him for that! I hated him so much that it made me want to explode.
I glanced to my left and saw Kierra sitting in her backyard on her tire swing, and for some reason, that made me mad, too. I hated how she looked at me lately. As if she felt bad for me. I much preferred it when she was busy calling me a toad. I didn’t want her to feel bad for me. I didn’t want her to feel anything for me because I hated her. I hated how she had two parents. It wasn’t fair . Nothing was fair anymore.
I shot her a dirty look before stomping my feet to my tree house. The tree house that Dad had built for me. I climbed the ladder and ignored Mom the whole way up. When I reached the tree house, I felt as if I was going to cry. Or shout. Or shout and cry. I felt so much and I didn’t know what any of it meant, which made me even angrier.
When I heard someone climbing the ladder, I was certain it was Mom coming to tell me to head back inside and finish my homework. But instead there was Kierra and her stupid face storming into my space.
“You can’t be mean to her!” Kierra yelled at me as she stepped into the tree house. “You can’t talk to your mom like that!”
“It’s none of your business,” I said as my chest rose and fell.
“You’re making her really sad, Gabriel. You need to knock it off now.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” I grumbled, annoyed with her stupid face that for some reason made my stomach feel weird whenever she looked at me. I kicked the baseball on the floor across the tree house because I was so annoyed. The baseball wasn’t even supposed to be in the tree house. It was supposed to be in Dad’s glove in the backyard, so we could play catch together.
Kierra stood tall, even though she was short. “I’m me! And I get to tell you when you’re acting like a stupid boy.”
“Whatever, Kierra. Leave,” I huffed, feeling my eyes start to water up. I wished that would stop happening so much. But whenever I felt anger lately, I’d feel like crying, too. And I always felt angry, which meant I always cried, too.
Kierra must’ve noticed because she got quiet. I didn’t even know she had the kind of mouth that could shut up. Most of the time, she was just yap-yap-yapping about nothing.
Now, she was quiet.
Freakishly quiet.
Next, she did something I didn’t expect her to do.
She hugged me.
Then, I did something I didn’t expect to do.
I hugged her back.
I didn’t understand why, but something about Kierra’s hugs made me feel safe. I hadn’t known I felt unsafe until her arms wrapped around me, just like when we were in the hospital the day Dad died. Most of the time, I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, let alone hold me. But when Kierra hugged me, I felt like I could breathe again. It was like her hugs reminded my heart to continue to beat.
She held on for a long time, and I didn’t try to pull away. I wanted to stay there with my arms wrapped around her for five more minutes. For ten more minutes. For sixty more minutes.
As long as she’d hold me, I wanted to hold her back.
“Gabriel?” she whispered as we kept embracing.
“What?”
“Want to play catch?”
I stepped back and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Are you any good at catch?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“ Fine .” I grumbled and rolled my eyes as I picked up Dad’s baseball. “I’ll show you, but if you suck, I’ll tell you.”
“If you tell me I suck, I’ll tell you that you have a big nose, Toad.”
I smiled. Maybe for the first time in weeks because for a moment everything felt normal again. “Deal. Come on, dick.”